Four Seasons: Summer Showers
by Starrystarrysky
Summary: All of them are unique, but still, there is one thing that is common to them all. And that is the desire to be seen just as they see. Mayama.Ayu.Nomiya, and a dabble on other characters' affairs.RT for certain themes, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Honey and Clover does not belong to me. It's such a sad, sad predicament to be in.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Four Seasons: Summer Showers**

**By StarrYsTarRysKy**

_What do I do with my life?_

_What do I need at the moment?_

_How do I feel about this?_

_How do I deal with this?_

_Is there…_

…_is there anything at all that I can do?_

_--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---_

I. Because the palpitations of my aching heart cannot be steadied

Ayumi Yamada sat quietly inside the studio, once again drowning out her frustrations with a pottery-making marathon. Usually, she'd only go there to complete a certain project, or whenever she was called for, but now, she had constantly found herself visiting this room whenever she was perturbed, depressed, or perplexed. And frankly, she had been coming to this place more often than she would have opted.

"_One of these days, you're going to find an answer to those problems of yours. Who knows? Maybe you'll find it underneath the hundredth bowl you've made," _her teacher had once told her.

Maybe the old man was right. She did not need to hasten herself. What she needed to do was take time off, think things through, and find the answer—even though that would take her more time than she would usually bargain for.

One thing was evident, though, and that's the fact that she had been leading a miserable love life. And she knew it. She really knew it right from the start, and even though she knew that she would end up murdering herself over Mayama, she just continued to love him in her own way.

It's somewhat hilarious when you think about it. She always wanted a happy-coloured love—something akin to what they show on the television. Sure there would be tribulations and whatnot, but love would prevail in the end, persistence would always pay off, and those who love most win it all. Unfortunately, though, it wasn't like that when it came to her, and most people still found it difficult to fathom the situation she was in.

She was deemed the most stunning woman in their university and hundreds, if not thousands, of men have fallen helplessly at her feet, but no matter what she did, no matter how close she tried to get to him, he could never love her. He would never be able to look at her the way he looks at Rika. No—not in a million years.

Tears fell from her wide, cerulean eyes. How many times has she told herself not to cry? How many times has she promised herself not to cry? How many times has she berated herself whenever she cried? Exactly how much or how many, she was certain. But even after all this time, she still had enough tears to cry.

"_Stupid, Ayu. Stop it, just stop it," _she told herself as she wiped her eyes with clay-stained hands. _"There's no point in crying. It won't solve anything. And surely these tears—"_

"—_these tears. Not even these tears can reach him."_

She then resumed her work, watching the makings of a big bowl rotate round and round before her. Round and round it went, drawing her in, beckoning her to come close. It was quite hypnotising, really, to just watch it rotate. With bleary eyes, she continued to watch the big bowl rotate—rotate like a wheel on its axle, rotate like a planet on its axis. And in spite of the monotony of all that's happening, she just carried on watching it, numbing herself with the deed. In doing this, she didn't have to think about her rotten situation. She didn't have to find the answers she needed. She didn't have to wake up with the knowledge that she'd be hurt at least once a day. She didn't have to live with herself. She didn't have to feel anything.

_She didn't have to feel anything at all. _

And that's why she kept coming back here, more often than not. She came here to forget—forget about her feelings, her situation, and her life. She came to this place to relieve herself of her cumbersome disposition. Here, she didn't have to love.

_She didn't have to love the one Takumi Mayama even for a little while. _

But as ironic as it is, she does. She still does.

Even in her entranced state, she still loved Mayama.

That had been most painful—the knowledge that she could never get rid of him, never get him out of her system no matter how much she tried.

And God knows how hard she tries.

"Er, hello? Is Yamada still here?"

That jarred her back into reality. Someone was there. She swiftly stood up from her seat and stumbled towards the door.

"Oh, it's you, Nomiya," she said, smiling a bit.

He lifted his right hand and waved at her boyishly. "Hi there. I'm glad I caught you here."

"Well, what brings you here?" she asked as she motioned for him to come in.

"Hmm," he said, whilst looking at all the displays. "I wanted to ask if you've already finished those pieces of pottery that we commissioned you to make."

"Aren't they due next month?" she asked as she sat down to continue her work, her back turned towards him.

"Hmm, well, yeah, they are. I just wanted to check y'know. I mean, you do tend to work yourself crazy sometimes, and so I came by your house earlier, but your mom said you weren't at home. I kinda figured you'd be here, so there."

Ayu continued to mould the bowl. "Oh, is that so?"

"Plus your dad was staring at me as though he wanted to skin me and eat me alive, so I guess I was kinda relieved that you were here and not at home," he added, his head hanging.

She steered her head towards his direction. "Seeing as they're not finished yet, I guess you'd better leave now. You should come back in a week or so. Better yet, I'll just call you up when they're ready for pick-up."

"Oh, is that so," he said, almost crestfallen.

A deafening silence enveloped the two of them. It wasn't a regular occurrence, especially with the two around. Nomiya was always quite talkative whenever he was around Yamada. Even though he'd end up prattling non-stop about Yamada's almost-sick obsession of Mayama, he still talked, nonetheless. Ayu, on the other hand, always ended up screeching or bawling as a result of Nomiya's preaching and prodding.

This time, though, the situation was different. The two of them were unnervingly hushed—as though any sort of movement or any intake of breath could shatter any of them to pieces. And this time, they were far from each other—she, sitting at her post with her back turned towards him, seemingly engrossed in her task at hand; he, leaning on the wall 8 metres away from her, staring wistfully at her back. This wasn't a norm between the two of them, but what else could they have done? They were friends, and firm ones, at that, but there wasn't anything else to talk about.

There wasn't anything else they _could _talk about.

It had been a while before Nomiya realized he had been staring at her. He quickly tore his eyes away from her and cleared his throat. This whole setup was getting to be quite awkward.

"Uh, Yamada?" came the rather hesitant voice.

"Hmm?" came the reply, uninterested, detached.

"Uh, well, y'see…I, uh…"

He didn't know what urged him to speak. Yes, he was quite vocal, especially when it came to preaching about Ayu's twisted love affairs, but he wasn't one to talk when there wasn't any apparent need for it. That moment was one of those times.

But even so, he felt a need—an almost insatiable one—to talk to the girl. He felt the need to vocalize his feelings where they concerned her. He felt the need to make her listen to him. He felt the need to make her turn her head and look at him. He felt the need to make her see just how much he's come to care for her.

And although he couldn't admit it to himself as of yet, he felt the need to make her see him the way she sees Mayama.

And it is this very fact that still binds them together.

Ayu turned to look at him. "Is something the matter?"

"I, uh…I was just wondering if you'd like to go and have dinner with me."

"Dinner?"

"Well, it is getting a bit late."

She resumed her earlier position and looked outside the window. It _was_ getting late, and the sun was getting ready to set. However, even after knowing this fact, she made no effort to stand up or acknowledge his offer in any other way. She just continued to stare at the broad orange sky, once again numbing herself of any emotion or feeling.

"But I'd understand if you didn't want to go. I guess I'd better leave, then. Sorry for intruding on you like this."

She didn't answer. She simply looked at him at the corner of her eye, and smiled.

And yet, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Bye, then," he said as he walked out the door.

Once again, she was alone. She didn't know whether she truly wanted to be alone, or whether she wanted someone to be with. One thing is for certain, though. As long as she loved Mayama, no matter what she did, she would end up in this studio, dwelling on and feeding her ever-growing misery.

She knew that Nomiya was there—would always be there to accompany her every step of the way. He would always be one of her closest friends. Even though he always ended up badmouthing Mayama, or nagging her about her feelings towards him, Nomiya would always be her friend. And yet, no amount of insult or advice from him changed the way she felt for Mayama. And that made her feel bad more than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Nomiya. Please forgive me."

Sadly, though, he was not there to hear it.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Nomiya sat in his car, staring at the faintly-lit room Yamada was in. He felt like a stranger, a little beggar boy, cold, hungry, lonely, looking into a magnificent window to a warm inviting home. Yet, the only thing he could do was gape at the window. He couldn't do anything else.

He was displeased with the thought of leaving her alone at the studio, but he didn't want to make her feel any worse than he knew she did. Given the chance, he would've opted to stay longer and watch over her; make sure she doesn't get cold; make sure she eats something; and make sure she gets home safe; stuff like that.

Ever since he had seen her bawl herself out, he had taken it upon himself to watch out for her, especially where it involved the other Takumi. And so he had always been present whenever she needed someone to cry on (even barf on), run to, or be with. He had always tried to cheer her up in his own ways, even if that meant taking her to Nagano for soba, or accompanying her in the dead of the night. Whatever happens, he would be there to help. As Mayama was there to protect Ayu from Nomiya, Nomiya would be there to protect Ayu from Mayama…

…from Mayama and her own self.

He leaned back, reclined the driver seat, and sighed. That Mayama had undoubtedly poisoned Yamada's mind about his so-called womanizing tendencies; probably told her that he wasn't any good, even as a friend; probably told her that he wouldn't be able to make her happy.

He smiled, albeit bitterly. "Wouldn't be able to make her happy, huh? As if you can, Mayama."

But he knew, deep within his gut. He knew full well that if there's anyone who can make Ayu happy, it would be Mayama.

And that thought unsettled him—it unsettled him in a way nothing has ever done before.

---End Chapter 1---

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End of this chapter! Please review! Please? Pretty please? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Honey & Clover isn't mine.

I just finished the series. And just as I thought, there were certain inconsistencies with regard to what I wrote. I just had to make some minute changes. I'd like to stay as faithful to what they actually showed in the last episode. I'm really, very sorry about this, but thank you for the kind words and the encouragements. They were greatly appreciated.

Domo arigatou gozaimasu.

I now present you with a "revamped" version of Chapter 2.

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**Four Seasons: Summer Showers**

**By StarrYsTarRysKy**

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

_Is…_

…_is this how I really feel?_

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

II. The morning light can only seek out the truth

Light flooded through the windows of Room 101; a light breeze blew against the white curtains. It was a sunny day: the sky no longer forbade people. The clouds were once again white and airy. The sun's rays shone across the sky and the warm light beat against his smooth cheeks.

It was already nine o'clock when he woke up. But due to the rising intensity of his work, not to mention his growing 'stalking' tendencies of Rika, waking up early was nearly impossible. He wearily rubbed his eyes and reached out for his glasses. He looked at his watch. 9:05 am.

"Wow, it's that late already, huh?" He plopped back against his futon looked around him.

Here he was, Takumi Mayama, deemed one of the coolest bachelors in his former University, a self-declared Rika protector, back in this cruddy, rundown apartment in Tokyo. He really thought that Rika was going to ask him to stay longer in Spain, but she didn't. Instead, she asked, rather, commanded him to go back to Tokyo.

--- --- --- ---

"Mayama, why don't you go back to Tokyo?" she said after taking a sip of her tea.

"Huh?" was the only thing he could muster.

"Go visit your friends. You must be lonely doing nothing here."

"But I'm not lonely here. I'm happy just to be with you; even if you don't need me around. I don't ha--"

"Your friend, Hagu. Her right hand—it could take until spring to heal," Rika inquired, her eyes transfixed on him.

He walked towards her. "Yes, it would. But they say that the probability of it recovering completely is quite big. She just has to be patient."

She took another sip of her tea.

"Why don't you go visit her? Go check out her condition."

"Huh?"

"Why don't you take time off—return to Japan, ne? I'm sure they're all waiting for you."

He put his hands on her shoulders. "Well, I'm sure Yamada, Hanamoto, and the others will take good care of her. You know how they are."

"How about you? Don't you want to be there?"

"I am worried, but, I…" he began.

He found Rika staring at him with eyes pleading, speaking of a want—an unbearable amount of wanting.

An unbearable amount of wanting to be with herself.

She smiled at him. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Someone else needs you more than I do."

He opened his mouth, tried to argue. Yet he couldn't. He just kept silent.

The next day, he was on a plane bound for Japan.

--- --- --- ---

He closed his eyes as he thought about it. Rika's eyes—he had never seen them like that before. Yes, he thought her eyes were expressive, but that time was different. Up until then, they had never revealed that much. They had always been dulled by the pain of Harada's passing.

Her eyes—they were so powerful.

They were so powerful that they could command him.

"Did I make the correct decision?"

He sat up and looked at the scenery outside. The sun was gently humming against the road. The trees swayed to the melody of the wind. The breeze conducted the curtains, like an orchestra. Who would've thought that he was in an urban neighbourhood?

"I guess I better go see them," he said as he stood up.

--- --- --- ---

Everyone was quiet inside the studio. The snow had stopped falling, and the sun had decided to give the place a little warmth. It was such a beautiful day, and yet the only thing they could do was to think of Hagu's condition, and their pseudo-attempts at concentrating at their tasks: Yamada, finishing the project she was commissioned to make; Takemoto, picking out shards of broken pottery that may still be useful; Morita, pretending to catch up on rest.

"Hey, Yamada," Takemoto started.

"Yes?"

"How long has it been?"

She stopped her work and turned towards him. "How long has it been…?"

"Since Hagu's hand…" he trailed off.

She wiped her hands. "It's been almost a week or so."

"That long, huh?"

She smiled at him. "She'll get better. She's very strong, you know, in spite of how she looks. Besides, her hands are recovering little by little. Before we know it, she may have already recovered."

"Mm. I know," he said, his hands rummaging through the shards. He regarded her at the corner of his eye and sighed.

"Go on," she coaxed.

He looked at her, almost confused.

"I know you wanted to ask something else. Go on. No one's stopping you."

"Well, do you still think about him?"

She looked at Takemoto quizzically.

"I mean, do you still think of Mayama?"

She smiled, once again. "Yes, I do. I was just thinking about him yesterday, as a matter of fact."

"Do you still love him?"

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, I do. I still do. And it's…"

She couldn't continue anymore. Once again, tears fell from her wide eyes.

Seeing her cry wasn't new to him, and yet, it didn't cease to gnaw at his heart.

He walked over to her. "Ah, Yamada, I'm sorry," he said as he held her hand.

Morita had been listening the whole time. He had wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. Not when there were important matters to attend to. He stood up and walked over towards the two. He plopped down beside Yamada and held her hand.

"Just cry it out, alright? Just cry it out. No one's stopping you, as well," he said.

They stayed like that for a while: the two boys each holding one of the girl's hands, the girl sniffling like a little kid.

She didn't continue what she had begun saying, but they all knew what it was.

_It's painful. It's still very painful. I don't know if it'll ever go away. _

"Hey, guys, I'm back," Mayama said as he entered the room.

Yamada looked up and gently took her hands from the other boys' hands.

"Oh, hey, Mayama," she said, regaining herself. "You're back early. Did everything go well in Spain?"

He bowed his head. "Yeah, well, about that: let's not talk about it."

"When did you get back?"

"Yesterday evening. I went straight to the apartment."

"You didn't even call us," Morita whined, his tear-stained face, frightfully close to Mayama's.

Mayama cautiously backed away. "Ah, well, you see it was…"

"He's right. You didn't even clue us in on what was happening," Takemoto whined against his ear.

"Takemoto, not you, too," Mayama said, his contour, slumped.

"Where's the Mayama that I raised, huh? You're not the Mayama I knew."

"Yeah, Mayama would never keep secrets from us!"

And here began an onslaught of whines from the two men before him.

"_It's scary how Takemoto has become so much like Morita when it came to these things,"_ he thought to himself.

"_A little help?" _he pleaded towards Yamada.

Yamada just raised her right hand and laughed nervously.

"_I'd rather not," _her reaction seemed to say.

Once again he slumped, as barrages of complaints rained on him. He sighed. Well, at least he knows that he really is home. He willed himself to ignore the two whining men and walked around the studio.

"Everything's the same as it was."

"Well, it's the university's studio," Yamada said. "We can't exactly change it."

He looked at her, checking if she were alright. Nothing seemed to be wrong, except for the fact that he looked exhausted.

She was physically and emotionally exhausted.

"She must've been thinking of Hagu all this time," he muttered to himself.

Yamada walked towards him, half-smiling. "Huh?"

Morita and Takemoto were still at his ears, bombarding him with complaints that did not have anything to do with him. Really, it was starting to get to him.

"Could you guys, please, shut up? Just this time? Please?"

The two men shrunk from Mayama, their faces still covered with tears.

He sighed, once again, and turned his attention to Yamada.

"Hagu, is she alright?"

Yamada's half-smile turned upside down. "She's still in the hospital."

"Is that so? When will she be released from rehabilitation?"

"In about a few months or so."

His eyes dropped. In a few months—Hagu would still be cooped up in the hospital for a few months. It wouldn't have been as hard for the girl if it hadn't been her right hand.

At least, that's what he thought.

"Hey, why did you come back here early?" Yamada asked. "You said you won't be back in a few months."

"I was hoping," Mayama said. "That you had forgotten that."

"I know why he's back early," Morita offered. "He was dumped—by Rika nonetheless."

"I wasn't dumped, okay? She just wanted some time alone," Mayama said through gritted teeth.

Morita turned his back. "Yeah, right, I believe you."

For the umpteenth time, Mayama slumped. Morita loomed over him.

"So you WERE dumped. I knew it," Morita said, grinning from ear to ear.

Mayama gave up and sighed. "No, I wasn't, really. I guess she just wanted to be alone. This was the first time I've seen her like that as well. It's the first time I've seen her want to be alone, you know?"

"Well, regardless of your reason," Yamada interjected. "Welcome back. It's nice to have you here. Hagu will be glad to see you."

And she smiled. She smiled albeit the fact that she wanted to cry out of sorrow, happiness, and something she can't quite put a finger on. What was it?

But she knew. It was the feeling that she had always carried ever since she found out about Rika and Mayama. It was envy—envy of Rika. It was then she started asking herself: would Mayama ever cry or worry about me the way he does about Rika?

Every time her question was answered, it would break her heart in little degrees—little but irreparable degrees. But she wouldn't mind getting hurt if it meant being able to get over her sickness that is her affection.

She wouldn't mind running into the maelstrom if it meant numbing herself of any feeling for Mayama.

Mayama was glad, was truly glad, that everyone precious to him was able to cope even through this whole ordeal. He was happy that everyone is happy—is learning to be happy.

Everyone was happy.

His eyes wandered around. In spite of everything that's happened, the tragedy that they have experienced, everyone can still smile. Everyone is going on, as if nothing bad has happened; because deep in their hearts, they know that this would be what Hagu wants. Hagu wants them to go on with their lives, and be happy. Just the same, she would be happy if everyone were happy.

She'd be happy if everything were the same.

"By the way, Yamada, how's work coming along?" Mayama asked, as if remembering something.

Yamada turned towards him. "Well, it's coming along quite well. Nomiya just commissioned me to make a three vases and a big bowl for him. He said it was for a friend of his."

"Nomiya?"

"Yes. It's very nice of him to continue looking for work for me, you know. It's still due next month, but he came over here last night and asked about it. I felt quite guilty about lazing around about it, so I'm working on it. Plus, I figured that I needed to finish it earlier as well. You know, for his approval, for the painting job, et cetera."

"You mean you were here last night?" Mayama asked, his voice on the verge of hysteria.

Yamada blinked at him, confused. "Yes. I used to stay here late, don't you remember? I don't have a studio at home, anyway."

"Alone?"

Morita and Takemoto looked at each other. They could see where this was going.

"Yes," was Yamada's innocent reply.

Something snapped inside Mayama's head. "You were alone with Nomiya here? Last night?"

"Yes, is there something wrong with that?"

"What? But you know what kind of a person he is!" Mayama said, going crazy at the thought. If that Nomiya does something to hurt Yamada…

…he won't live to see daylight!

Yamada kept her composure. "Yes, you're right I do. I know what kind of a person he is. He's a very decent person. He looks out for me you know."

"But he's a playboy, Yamada. He'd just play with you and spit you out."

Anger started to well up in her. "No, he won't."

"He would, and I should know. I've seen him do it!"

"He wouldn't, so just stop it!" Yamada snapped back. "Stop acting as though you know him, okay? Because the truth is you don't, Mayama. You don't know who he is or what kind of a person he truly is, so just stop it, okay?"

Mayama stared at the girl in front of him. The Yamada he knew would've already pummelled him to the ground or knocked him out cold. This Yamada in front of him, however, only stood there firmly, hands fisted, lips pursed, and eyebrows creased. His head dropped. She has changed a lot ever since she and Nomiya became closer. Maybe, just maybe, she's moved on.

"_Maybe she's starting to move on from me," _Mayama thought.

"Look, Yamada, I'm sorry. I—"he started.

Yamada raised her hand as she headed for the door. "No, never mind. I shouldn't have to lose my cool."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Ah, I just remembered. I had to get something from the storage. Takemoto, could you come with me? I need your help."

Takemoto nodded and hurried after her.

Mayama didn't see it. He couldn't have, for he had been too absorbed in his thoughts. But Morita saw it. He saw her expression clearly: a drop of glistening tear falling from her sky-like eyes, heading towards her bittersweet smile. And it broke his heart—broke his heart that he knew who those tears were for, why she smiled like that, and that he could never do anything to prevent her from doing so. As much as he'd like to tell her to stop crying for Mayama, he couldn't. He knew that doing so would only break her heart even more.

--- --- --- ---

Yamada walked along the path with Takemoto following her.

She knew that Mayama only wanted to protect her, and she was thankful for that, but couldn't he see? He's only making it harder for her to move on from him.

The truth is she would've been happier if Mayama hadn't come back. Frankly, she wasn't ready to meet him yet. She wanted to let everything settle, let her feelings stabilize.

Let her heart heal, even just a bit.

But he was here; he was already here. And he had to prattle about Nomiya again. Can't he understand that Nomiya was taking care of her? That Nomiya was decent enough to watch out for her, to make her strong?

Can't he understand that Nomiya was there to love her?

Takemoto stopped before her. "Yamada, is everything alright?"

She was crying again. She was letting her heart break again.

She smiled at him. "He told me, you know. He told me that he loved me."

His eyes widened. "You mean Nomiya?"

She nodded. "He loves me, you know?"

And she's grateful for that. She's grateful for having Nomiya around to help her get better.

Takemoto hugged her. "It's okay, Yamada. It's okay."

--- --- --- ---

Morita sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. "Hey Mayama."

Mayama looked at him. "Were you able to see Hagu, Morita?"

Morita nodded. "Yes, I was. She's different you know. Something about her changed. I can't quite put a finger on it, though."

"Is that so?"

"Hey Mayama."

No reply.

"What is it about Nomiya that you don't like?"

Mayama sat down on the floor facing Morita. "I told you already. He's a playboy. He wouldn't care if something happened to Yamada. Besides I think he's too old for her. She's still so young and so innocent, and I wouldn't want her to be corrupted by someone like Nomiya."

Morita mulled this over. "Well, when it comes down to it, Mayama, I can say you're a playboy as well."

Mayama's head snapped up.

"Wait, hear me out first," Morita said. "Don't you think that you're the one playing with Yamda's feelings? I mean, I know how you feel. You want her to be happy, because she's dear to you. But the thing is, with what you're doing, you're just keeping her hopes up of you liking her romantically."

Mayama smiled. "Yeah, but she already knows that she hasn't got any chance."

"Yes, we all know that, but the thing is you're confusing her. She won't know what to believe. You're the one toying with her emotions."

"But I just want to protect her from that womanizer."

"Don't you know what you're doing? You're restricting her, Mayama. Just let her hang out with whoever she likes. If it doesn't work out, that's when we come in to help her. You should let her learn on her own. It's what a true friend does.

"Are you really her friend, Mayama, or are you just keeping her as spare if Rika dumps you? Are you keeping her from liking someone else so that you could have her when your love affairs don't work out?

"Why do keep her from falling in love with Nomiya, Mayama? Are you really, purely concerned about her welfare?

"Or are you just afraid to confirm what you've feared all along?"

Mayama looked at Morita who was now standing up.

"You said that you idolised Nomiya, right? That he was perfection of what you've always aimed for.

"Are you afraid, Mayama? Are you afraid that she'll love someone better than you?

"Are you afraid to know that she'll realize how imperfect you actually are?"

---End Chapter 2---

* * *

AGAIN, THANK YOU VERY MUCH TO THOSE WHO REVIEWED. I'LL WORK VERY HARD ON THIS STORY.

Thank you very much to all of you wonderful people.

Stay happy!

Domo arigatou gozaimasu!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**Honey and Clover ain't mine. Sniffle…

**A.N.:** First and foremost, thank you for all the reviews and such. They're a big help.

Thank you, so, so much.

And, sorry I haven't replied to any of your comments! heehee.

Truly sorry! bows repeatedly

* * *

**Four Seasons: Summer Showers**

**By StarrYsTarRysKy**

_Please…please tell me what I should do._

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

III. In the stillness of the night

It was the sixth cigarette he had lit within ten minutes.

He took the stick from his now-dry lips and held it between his fingers. A cloud of white smoke escaped from his mouth. Once again, he attempted to bring the cigarette close to his lips. However, he decided against it. That sixth cigarette met the same fate as the other five before it: huffed once, and crushed on the ashtray.

By this time, the metal ashtray on top of the table was a crooked mountain of white sticks.

His eyebrows were tightly knit; his right hand held up his cheek. His mouth curled downwards in a visible display of distaste. He glared at nothing in particular, and his expression changed from annoyance, to anger, to exasperation. He closed his eyes, in an effort to calm down, and heaved out his anxieties with a sigh.

Miwako looked up from her desk, and smiled to herself. Who would have known that Nomiya would ever be flustered like this?

And over a twenty-something girl as well.

"What's the matter now, Nomiya?" she called out from her place.

Nomiya looked up from his reverie, eyebrows still intricately woven. "Huh? Oh, nothing. Just Yamada, that's all."

She managed a sigh. "Oh, well, what else is new?" She leaned back on her chair and stared at Nomiya.

He didn't answer. Just as before, he let the almost-deafening silence of the room answer Miwako's question—that and the dejected sigh that managed to crawl up from his throat.

"She's coming over this afternoon, right?" she asked, standing up to stretch.

"Yes, she is," he said as he attempted to light another cigarette.

"So, why the worried look?"

Again, he sighed, and laid the stick down on the table.

"I called up last night; just to check on her."

"Well?"

"She sounded so—forlorn, you know; as though the world had been against her for the past two days or so. I figured it had something to do with Mayama."

Miwako sat across Nomiya and looked him straight in the eye.

"Wait," she motioned to Nomiya. "Let me take care of the rest of the story. After that, you hurriedly drove over to her house and spent the night in your car, right?"

He grimly nodded. "With an overprotective father, you think I'd be able to come within an inch of her without being stared at like a fucking maniac? And at that time of the night, too? He didn't even allow a glimpse of her. I was coerced to sleep outside."

"Just admit it. You can't bear to leave her in that sort of condition," she almost laughed out.

Nomiya leaned back on his chair. "Isn't that already apparent?"

She chuckled. "I remember the time you travelled all the way from Tottori just to see her."

"Don't remind me," he all but groaned. "I drove for nine hours straight, late at night. I arrived here in the morning. I waltz over here, and what do I get? You telling me that she's on board a train bound for Tottori. Damn it. How nice was that?"

And for the umpteenth time within that hour, he heaved out a sigh.

"The thing is, though," Miwako started as she eased back into her chair. "You didn't really mind any of that. You were too preoccupied with her. You wouldn't even mind being caught up in the worst of storms.

"As long as it's for her."

He regarded her at the corner of his eye, and smiled to himself.

_Yes, _he thought. _I wouldn't mind doing any of those for her. Even if you should decide to cry in your little corner, I'll follow you. Even if that means seeking you out blindly. Even if that means I'd only have the sound of your shattering heart to guide me. I have to make you see. _

_I have to make you see that you never were alone. _

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

"So you think this vermilion would do nicely?" Yamada asked as she laid down the sample tile in the palette.

"Well, Mr. Honda said the motif was earth-based colours," Miwako said as she gave it a thought. "But he did say that we could throw in other colours that would enhance the pieces."

Yamada nodded in understanding. "Hmm, what about this ochre, then?" she said as she picked up another tile. "It's still in the motif, but it's bright enough to nicely complement the browns that we picked out earlier."

"You think so?" Miwako asked.

Yamada smiled. "Mm-hmm. I think picking out vermilion is a bit on the extreme. It's too loud, I guess."

Miwako eyed the two tiles carefully, and placed each beside the coffee-coloured tile a number of times.

"You're right. Ochre is a better match for it."

Yamada smiled. "Okay. I'll note that down."

She scribbled down the colour combinations on a piece of paper. Having done that, she placed the pen on top of that paper and smiled happily.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to do this," Miwako said as she stood up. "Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee would be nice, thank you," she said. "Actually, you don't need to thank me, Miwako. I should be thanking you: you, Nomiya, Yamazaki, everyone who's been helping me."

Miwako smiled as she set down two mugs of steaming coffee on the table.

"I know you've been hearing this from me quite a number of times, but, really, I can't thank you enough for giving me something to work on and…

"…and I can't thank you enough for just looking out for me. So I'll say it again. Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

Miwako can't help but feel happy and grateful: happy to know that everything they've done has helped Yamada, and grateful that she was able to meet someone such as her…

…that most of all.

"Hey," Yamada said as she looked around. "Where's Nomiya?"

"Oh, he's just taking care of some business. He should be back in no time."

"Oh…okay."

Miwako stood up. "Well, excuse me a bit. I'll just go and finish something."

"Well, in that case, I'll get going then," Yamada said, posing to stand up.

"No, it's okay. Don't go yet," she said. "I mean, you just got here a little while ago. Travelling here from your house isn't exactly a walk in the park, so why don't you catch your breath for a while?"

Yamada eased herself back into her seat. "Okay, thanks."

Miwako beamed at her. "Just relax there, okay? Besides, I think you should also go over the plans with Nomiya."

"Mm," she nodded. "It's thanks to Nomiya that I can work like this. You know, if I hadn't met him, I wouldn't be able to find work as easily as I could now. I'd probably be bored out of my wits right now."

"What would you have done if you hadn't come and work for us?"

"Hmm, as I've said before, part of my time I'd spend making sake cup sets: as complements to the liquor that we sell at the store. When I'm done with that, I'd probably have to look for work on my own."

"I don't think you'd have much problem looking for work on your own, Yamada," Miwako said, her fingers dancing on the keyboard. "You're a very talented potter."

A faint blush crept up her cheeks. "Thanks, Miwako. You're too nice. But still, it's thanks to Nomiya that I can work like this. I can't quite describe how I feel when I do something for you all. I don't know. I just feel…happy—in the simplest and truest sense of the word.

"_And it's thanks to him, thanks to Nomiya, that I can stand strong—stand strong even when the world pressures me to fall. _

"_I can stand strong even when Mayama urges me to sink deeper into him."_

These last few words, she had murmured to herself, and yet Miwako heard every word, as crisp as moonshine in the darkness. She heard, for the kind afternoon breeze had wafted those words towards her.

And she knew: she knew that if anyone can make Yamada truly happy, that one would be Nomiya.

It would be Nomiya and no one else.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Once again, snow fell on the bustling night streets. Outside, the clouds bathed in the glow of the moon. Yet, that was barely noticeable, for the blazing car lamps and the blinding street lamps all but drowned that out.

She intently watched the scenery below, unconsciously taking note of what was happening below.

People littered about the streets; crowds of them crawled across the sidewalks. From where she was situated, the crowds below looked like a big blur of ink. From up there, everything looked the same. Everyone looked the same.

_Everyone was the same. _

And from there, she wondered: from here, would it make any difference in my life? Would it matter that I am up here, staring out the window, and not down there, crawling along with them?

Am I the same as those people down there are?

And if I am, am I simply living the same life as everyone else's?

_Isn't there anything at all that I can do to make my life just a little bit different? _

Sensing her dejection rising up the surface, she tore her eyes away from the scene and plopped down the sofa. She scooped up Leader in her arms and stroked his caramel-coloured fur.

Leader's eyes sparkled. "Ahhh, that feels good, Yamada," he seemed to say, his tail wagging furiously.

Yamada passed a glance at the wall clock and sighed. It was already seven-thirty, and Nomiya still wasn't anywhere near the vicinity.

She stood up, dog still in her arms, and sauntered towards Miwako's station. "Hey, Miwako," she said. "You think Nomiya's okay? I'm getting a bit worried about him. He might be stuck somewhere."

Miwako continued to tap away on her keyboard. "Don't worry too much about him. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself," she said as she vigorously hit the last few keys. "Okay, this is done!"

She stretched out on and slumped into her chair. "Hah, I finally finished it." She turned towards Yamada and grinned. "Don't worry too much about him. Sooner or later, he's going to waltz in that door, and greet us as if he'd been gone for just a few minutes."

She nodded in agreement. "He does tend to do that, doesn't he?"

"You like Nomiya a lot, don't you, Yamada?"

"Mm. He's done so much for me. He's like an older brother, but something more. He's like an old friend who never gets tired of looking out for me."

"That's good to hear."

Just then, the door opened, and in came Nomiya.

Miwako giggled. "Well, speaking of."

"I'm back," he said, closing the door behind him.

Yamada lowered Leader to the ground. "Mm. Welcome back," Yamada smiled as she strolled towards him. "Hey, Nomiya, I have to discuss some things about the pottery I made for you. You see, I was thinking that maybe the colour could be—"

Her train of thought was cut off, and truthfully, she found it hard to continue.

She found two arms tightly knit behind her, and herself crushed into Nomiya.

His arms tightened around her. "I'm glad. I'm so glad," he whispered hoarsely.

She stared, wide-eyed, at his left sleeve. She was so surprised. This encounter, this embrace—everything was all so unprecedented; surreal, even.

Yet, it was all so natural, as if everything that had happened up to that moment was a preparation for that contact between them.

She wasn't aware of it at that moment, but there was something in her, something akin to a voice that urged her, wanted her to melt into him. And yet, a firm grasp held on to her; that hindered her from doing so.

He knew that he had taken her by surprise; but still, he held on to her. He held on to her as though that would be the last time that he'd be able to do that: as though that moment would be forever lost.

He removed his arms from behind her, and held her at arms' length. He slowly examined her physique. "Are you feeling okay, Yamada?"

She nodded quizzically, still in shock. "I'm okay," was her feeble reply.

He sighed, apparently glad for that reply. "Okay then," he said as he clutched her wrist. "Are you up for a ride?"

Again, she nodded. "I'm not really busy anymore, anyway. Oh, by the way, the pieces I made are already here. Why don't you take a look at them for a while?" she said, remembering her purpose.

"It's okay. We'll go now. I can take care of that at a later time." By this time, he was practically dragging her by the wrist. "Do you have your coat with you?"

"Y-yes, I do, but…"

Miwako walked up to them, arms crossed in front of her. "So, when will you guys be back?" she inquired, a playful smile hinting by the corner of her lips.

"Hello, there, Miwako," he said. "We'll be going now."

"So I heard," as she put her hands on her hips. "Be careful, then. Have a nice trip. I'll take care of things from here on."

Nomiya grinned. "Thanks a bunch, sis. I know I could depend on you."

"Well, bye, Miwako. Thanks for everything," Yamada said, awkwardly bowing down.

"Don't mention it, Yamada. I'm always happy to see you around."

Nomiya gently pulled at her wrist and whispered a "Let's go."

She was a little befuddled, but she complied. "I'll be seeing you soon, Miwako!"

Miwako stood by the doorway and gazed at Nomiya's and Yamada's receding figures. She smiled to herself and whispered, "Good job, Miwako. Good job!"

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

She quietly boarded the passenger seat and clicked on her seatbelt. She stared long and hard at Nomiya, trying to stare the answers out of him. Yet, her attempts had been in vain. Apparently, he had been too busy setting up the car.

Once he had settled down, he took her hand and put his phone on it.

She was still quite puzzled. She knew enough to trust Nomiya, but still she can't seem to comprehend what was happening.

"Nomiya, I, uh," she started. "Is something th—"

He looked at her and smiled. "Why don't you call your dad? Tell him we'll be going out for a drive, and that we'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"Okay. I can do that. But why? Where are we going anyway?"

Again, he smiled at her. "To Tottori."

He revved up his car and drove out of the parking lot.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

They drove along the highway smoothly. It was a miracle that the streets weren't crowded, especially at that time of night.

"Yes, dad, I'm okay. Don't be too overprotective," she practically yelled. "Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. Yes. Uh-huh. I'll be back the day after tomorrow, okay? I promise I won't do anything to humiliate myself. Yes. Okay. Bye. Take care there."

She pressed a button on the phone, and stared at it for a moment. And then, she handed it back to Nomiya, a mumbled "Thank you" escaping her lips.

He took it from her and slid it inside his pocket. He regarded her at the corner of his eye and then fixed his eyes on the open road.

She looked out the window, fixated by the blurred scenery outside. She smiled faintly, happy that she could get away from her lonely disposition in Tokyo, even for a while. But even as she tried to empty her mind of her loneliness, she felt Mayama tapping against the walls of her mind. Once again, she felt the enormity of Mayama weigh down upon her.

She wanted to break down at that moment, but she couldn't afford to.

No, it wasn't that she can't. It was because she won't.

Just for once, she didn't want to cry over Mayama.

"Hey," Nomiya's voice broke in. "Just a moment ago, you were quite cheerful. What happened? Is something the matter?"

She defiantly shook her head. "No, nothing's wrong. I think I'm just tired, that's all."

He knew that something was bothering her, and _that something_ was Mayama. However, he didn't exert any effort to pursue or peruse the subject.

"Well, you better sleep, then," he said instead. "It's nine hours to Tottori."

She knew that he had wanted to ask something else. What hindered him from doing so was beyond her, however.

She nodded in reply to his suggestion. "Mm. Okay then. Thank you, Nomiya."

She propped her head against the side of the car and in a few moments, sunk into slumber.

He watched her from the corner of his eye. He was aware that she still loved Mayama, and painfully so. He knew that he couldn't do anything to completely relieve her of her pain, at least at the moment he couldn't. But there is that something, that one little thing he could do to help her.

"I have to make you believe, Yamada. I have to show you that you'll never be alone. Not as long as I'm here."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It was nearly five in the morning when they arrived at Tottori. The sun was almost out, almost ready to greet everyone with its sparkling arms.

He stared at the girl seated beside him. At that moment, her head lolled to her side; her lips curved up to a smile. She must have been having a good dream. A few hints of light played at her face, giving her an almost celestial glow.

He gently pushed the wisps of hair away from her face and tucked them behind her ear. He let his fingertips rest at her cheek, and let them revel at its smoothness.

He smiled at himself. Only recently, he had told her that he loved her, and now, more than ever, he was sure of how he felt.

And he was happy to know that what he felt was real.

He removed his hand from her cheek and gently tapped her shoulder.

"Hey, Yamada, wake up."

She stirred, and sat up, eyes still half lidded. She rubbed her yes childishly, and looked around her. "Hmmm…good morning, Nomiya. Are we already in Tottori?"

He smiled. "Good morning. And yes, we're already in Tottori."

She opened the car door and stepped outside. He did the same.

"Ahh, it's so beautiful here," she said as she stretched her limbs. "I've never seen the sea at this time of day. It's really something."

"You're right. It is quite a sight," he said as he approached her. "Hey," he said as he clutched her hand. "C'mon. Let's go and eat."

"Okay."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

After having a sumptuous breakfast at a quaint café, the pair strolled off to sight-see.

"You've been here before, right?" Nomiya inquired. "It was that time when Miwako asked you to deliver that bento."

"Yes, I have been in Tottori," she replied. "It was Yamazaki who greeted me when I arrived at the station. I distinctly remember that."

"So what exactly did you do here while I was away?"

"W-ell, Yamazaki gave me a brief tour of Tottori. I can't specifically remember any of the places he showed me, though." A childish giggle broke from her lips.

"Ah, I see," he said. "Why don't we do a little tour of our own, huh?" He grinned from ear to ear.

Her eyes lit up. "Sure! Let's do that."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

They had spent twelve whole hours just walking around Tottori. What might have been a tiring day to others became something of purpose for them. Those twelve hours were spent in know each of themselves better.

No, they didn't spend that whole time talking to one another. Yes, they did talk, but not in the way they used to. Nomiya didn't prattle, Yamada never bawled once.

No, those twelve hours were spent in unconsciously watching each other. Those twelve hours were spent in liking each other better.

Those twelve hours were spent in making their friendship shine even more.

And maybe, just maybe, their friendship could rival even the very existence of the sun.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It was already sunset when they finished their pseudo-tour. They walked back to the car, the orange glow of the sun beating against their faces.

"You know, I vaguely remember visiting all those places we visited today," she offered.

"When Yamazaki gave you that 'tour?'" he asked, his index fingers posed as quotation marks.

She nodded. "Yup. I guess I was just too out of it to remember. I must have looked like a tramp at that time. I was completely spaced out."

"Yes, I remember you did. I almost didn't recognize you," he said jokingly.

"But you know Yamazaki was kind enough to cheer me up. Well, maybe he did have the intention of just keeping me from boarding the train, but, deep inside I felt happy."

"You know him. He may look like a klutz but underneath that visage is a heart of gold."

"As with you, Nomiya," she said stopping. "You're quite like that."

He stopped and faced her. "You mean I look like a klutz?"

"No, not that part," she giggled. "What I meant is that you always try to cheer me up as well, Nomiya. Just like now."

He didn't say anything. Instead, he waited for it to continue.

"I know I always use you as an excuse to get away from Mayama. Still, you always helped me out whenever I'm stuck in a fix. You're always there to push me on, and you always cheer me up. And you always help me when it comes to jobs, and I'm happy for all of that.

"I know it sounds very unoriginal, but, thank you. I'm very grateful for all you've done for me," she said, bowing.

It came as a surprise to him that she'd thank him now, and yet, knowing Yamada, part of him wasn't surprised as much. He knew deep inside that Yamada was happy. Even though she cried, he found comfort in the knowledge that he could make at least part of her happy.

And that made everything he did worthwhile.

He smiled, and offered his hand to her. "C'mon. It's almost nightfall."

She took his hand and they walked, hand in hand, underneath the setting sun.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

"Shouldn't we look for a place to spend the night?" she said, her eyes grazing through several inns along the way.

"No. We won't need it anyway," he said, eyes fixed on the road.

They travelled in silence for a few minutes. Nothing but the hypnotising hum of the air conditioning unit filled the gaps in between those silent moments. It wasn't uncomfortable for the two of them—just natural.

He turned the car's engine off. "Okay, we're here. Remove your shoes okay?" he said, alighting from the car.

"Where are we anyway?" she asked.

As she got out of the car, she looked around her and a realization came upon her.

He smiled at her. "You do remember this place, right?"

She nodded. "The sand dunes," she whispered.

"Get your coat. We'll be staying here for a while."

"Sure, but why?"

Nomiya only grinned and pointed towards the sky.

She looked up and saw little bits of crystal floating downwards—snow. Once again, she looked around her and held her breath at that amazing sight. The sand dunes, once tanned, were now being covered in a thin sheet of falling crystals.

"Snow falling on sand dunes," she said, delighted.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

They sat beside each other, both wrapped up in their coats. The two of them stared at the dunes, now a field of sparkling snow. It was truly a sight to beheld, something rare. And it was in its rarity that it became even more beautiful.

"You know, some people may find this sight boring," she started. "But for me, it's something very romantic."

He turned to look at her. "Why is that?"

"I guess you could say that it signifies something romantic. At least for me it does."

"Is that so?"

"Mm. When something deemed almost impossible, such as this, is exemplified right before you, you just have that urge to defy almost anything, follow solely your heart, even.

"When you deem everything hapless and futile, and you see something as beautiful as this, you're just filled with hope and you say to yourself, 'Hey, nothing is impossible, after all.'"

"_Not even the fact that I could get over Mayama," _she thought to herself.

He turned his gaze towards the sand dunes. "You're right, you know. It is beautiful."

"Hey, Nomiya, you know what, Mayama came back. He just arrived a few days ago," she mumbled, embracing her knees to her chest.

He tensed up. As he had suspected, Mayama bothered her. "What happened then?"

"Nothing really happened," she said, half-smiling. "It was the usual thing. He just came over to see how we were doing, and stuff.

"It was quite funny, you know, how Morita and Takemoto reacted once they saw him," she giggled. "They were practically bawling."

She kept on talking, to at least hide the fact that she had wanted to cry, and to at least hide the fact that her eyes were brimming with tears.

And that they'd fall any minute.

But Nomiya knew, he knew right from the name Mayama escaped from her lips—he knew that she'd end up crying again.

He took her into his arms and embraced her tightly. "Now, why don't you tell me how you truly feel, huh?"

Her tears slid from her cerulean eyes. She felt her reserve slip away from her, and there, she cried her heart out.

She buried her head deeper into his chest. "Why did he have to come back? Can't he see? Can't he see that I'm slowly getting over him?

"I know I shouldn't blame him. It wasn't his fault. None of it was. But I'm just so damn frustrated.

"I'm so frustrated because I can't do anything to stop myself from loving him. I want to hate him so much. But every time I start to forget him, he just keeps on crawling back in.

"And I feel my heart shatter a little more.

"_I can't do anything to keep my heart from breaking."_

She hung on to him, like a child would to her mother. She had promised herself countless times that she wouldn't cry anymore, especially not in front of Nomiya. However, she found that promise a little too hard to keep.

Just like she found out how hard it was to completely forget Mayama.

He loosened his hold on her and gently tilted up her chin. He looked into her eyes and smiled.

"It's hard as of now, but this might just be the way for you to deal with it. Even if it hurts now, eventually, you'll be able to get over all of this. When that time comes, you'll come out a stronger and better person.

"Until that time comes, I'll be beside you. I'll watch over you. It pains me to see you cry, but it hurts me even more to know that you're crying alone, somewhere, someplace I can't reach or find you.

"I won't stop you from crying," he said, cupping her face. "I just want you to know that you'll never be alone."

She stared at him with earnest eyes. She was smiling now. "Thank you. Thank you very much," she whispered.

It was almost instantaneous—so much so that she wouldn't have noticed if it didn't last a few seconds.

He had kissed her: a light contact upon her lips.

In that single, chaste kiss, he had told her more than what his lacklustre words could ever hope to convey.

_He showed her far more than his words could ever do so._

She was shocked, yes, but inside, she felt an unnerving tranquillity. She felt strangely calm—as if she had finally found what it was she was looking for, as if everything that had happened was the most natural of things in the world.

And maybe, just maybe, she had already gotten over Mayama, even without her awareness.

Again he embraced her, more tightly than before—more tightly than anyone could.

"_I love you."_

---End Chapter 3---

* * *

Sorry this took quite a while. Hehe. :D School and Stuff. XD 

Thank you so, so much for spending time on reading this. You people are the greatest!

hugs y'all

To everyone who reviewed, annstar5647, marikoluvsanime, haikei, hanadanforever, modernfawn, silvermistcloud, HoneyBee1, Dernier Cri, aliene99, tsujeai, Lildivagirlz, Desolatedking, and GoGothGirl, thank you so, very much. bows

There are only a few more chapters, methinks.

Stay happy, you lovely people:D


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